Still holding the back of her neck, he roughly pulled her from her spot against the wall and threw her onto her bed. She fell stomach first and scrambled to get onto her elbows and knees to confront him. He never gave he a chance.

Kneeling onto the bed, he pushed her down again and forced her legs apart with his knees, not caring that he was hurting her in the process. Her pleas fell upon deaf ears as he lined himself up with her dripping hole. His cock twitched and he gripped it by the base, guiding it.

The fat head entered her and stretched her hole. She gasped at the heat the tissues radiated as they met. Before she could even realize what was happening he had brutally sheathed his manhood in her. Her scream sounded like music and it made his blood pound throughout his body.

He pulled out and plunged in again. Each time, her scream became shorter and softer before becoming whimpers. His balls slapped against her red lips, strings of their fluids sticking to them and her like some kind of connection.

He gripped her hips and slammed into her, harder and harder, groaning as she tightened against him. "I'm surprised you can still be this tight," he spoke, his ragged breaths punctuating each word. She could speak, a pillow stuffed into her mouth to muffle the pain he was causing her.

This isn't good enough, he thought. I need something tighter. Something more. Something that'll teach her.

Pein pulled out, his cock still hard and twitching, both unsatisfied with what he had taken from the woman so far.

"Please," she begged, "please. No more." Her tears mixed with her mascara, leaving smudges on her pillow. He didn't want to hear her. He didn't care what she had to say. He shoved her face back into the pillow, cutting off her oxygen.

While she struggled against his unforgiving hand, he spat onto his hand and stroked his cock. He could feel her struggles become weaker and he smiled, his lips parting to show his canines. His eyes were no longer a violet color; now they were almost black in his hatred and desire.

Without letting her breathe, he shoved his cock into her ass. Her scream of pain was still muffled but it was loud enough to hear clearly in the room and the rooms on either side of theirs. He fucked her again and again, his hand loosening on her head enough to let her breathe. Pein wanted to hear her cries and see her tears spread beneath her on the pillow.

Soon his cock was lubed with her blood, the red mixing with the orange of his pubes. Each time he entered her he went deeper and deeper, tearing her soft tissues. She was openly sobbing now and begging him to stop. She would do whatever he wanted as long as he stopped this.

Growing angry at her constant noise, he punched her in the back of her head to shut her up. Dazed, she felt herself leave her body briefly, hovering above them on the bed as he fucked her over and over again. Her eyes looked dead and her throat was raw from her screams and pleas. Descending back into her body, she rocked on the bed in time with his punishing rhythm.

Pein sat up on his knees and pulled her roughly by her arms so that she was balanced precariously on her knees. Only him holding her up prevented her from falling forward. Her head hung limply with her hair covering her face. Strands stuck to the trails her tears had made.

His hands pulled on her arms and his knees parted her legs even further. He sunk his cock into her until the root was all that was left unburied. "You're so fucking good when you want to be" he snarled. He was close but his hatred for her prevented his orgasm.

Narrowing his eyes he gripped her neck with both hands. She struggled to breathe and to find a position that didn't feel so helpless. His hands tightened around her neck and her yellow eyes widened. Her hands went to his and her nails clawed at them, desperately trying to break them off of her.

With a quick twist he snapped her neck and let her fall forward onto the bed. Her body twitched in its death throes and the walls of her ass tightened against him quickly. Pein gasped and entered the contents of his balls into her torn and bloody ass.

He panted and wiped the sweat from his face. One hand swept his damp hair back and the other rubbed her ass almost tenderly. He pulled out and pushed her body away from him. Grabbing a piece of her discarded clothing, he wiped his cock and pubes off before sitting down on the bed again and flipping her body over.

Such a shame, he thought. All she had to do was keep her mouth shut. But I suppose asking a whore to keep her holes closed was like asking someone to part the Red Sea. It just wasn't going to happen.

Sighing, he stood up and walked over to where his pants lay on the floor. Kneeling down, he fished out a pocket knife and e returned to the body. He hacked off her breasts, cut out her tongue, sliced off her clitoris and lips before finally cutting out her womb and vagina. He laid these parts next to her body and carved his kill sign into her stomach.

Then he took a shower, dressed and left as anonymously as he came. Except he wasn't so anonymous.

Deep down, past the basement and sub basement of the club, a man watched. He had seen everything and had had the sense of mind to record this particular hookup. He made extra money by recording and selling the hook ups of his whores and this one was his magnum opus. The elusive and fabled snuff film.

"Your life was meaningless, Konan, but your death shall be your art."